


Leap of Faith

by stelladora



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:43:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18456113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelladora/pseuds/stelladora
Summary: "“You know, if I had my power armor, we could just jump off the Prydwen. It’d be much faster,” Caroline pointed out with a laugh.“I still could,” Danse mused, looking down at the bay. “Come here, I’ll hold you.”"Power armor negates falling damage, not falling-in-love damage.





	1. Chapter 1

“Yes sir. Ad Victoriam.” Caroline strode out of the command deck of the Prydwen with her new orders: clear out some lab to the southwest. A routine enough job, though perhaps a little beneath her new status as Knight. Caroline wasn’t going to complain about that to Elder Maxson, though. As soon as she’d met him, she’d been impressed with his devotion to his cause, his ability to rally people around him. He had a magnetism to him, and Caroline wanted him to like her. Joining up with Paladin Danse in the ruins of the Cambridge police station had been one thing, but seeing the Prydwen here with its full crew redoubled Caroline’s devotion to the Brotherhood.

She climbed up to the next deck, heading for the mess hall to find Paladin Danse. “Have you received new orders from Elder Maxson?” he asked. Danse had changed lately, now that they were aboard the Prydwen. The stress of his previous mission had made him brusque and efficient, with little time for levity or personal conversations. He had always seemed slightly angry, and it had made Caroline all the more determined to please him. Now, though, among his brothers and sisters in arms, Danse was more relaxed. Happier. Although he was just as eager to get out into the field.

“Yes. I’m to clear out that old hydroponics lab,” Caroline reported.

“Alone?” Danse asked skeptically.

Caroline smiled. “Of course not. You’re my sponsor, aren’t you? You’re stuck shepherding me around,” she retorted.

Danse smiled, his professional exterior wearing away the more time they spent together. “There are worse fates, I suppose,” he joked. “I’m ready when you are. Will you be getting your power armor?”

“No, it’s not quite ready yet. I took the whole torso section apart; I wanted to make some modifications.” The two made their way outside, Caroline explaining her plans for her armor. It went a little above and beyond the standard Brotherhood modifications, but then Caroline often found herself in combat more often than the standard Brotherhood knight. They walked towards the vertibirds docked along the ship, the wind whipping at them as they surveyed the shoreline below. “You know, if I had my armor, we could just jump. It’d be much faster,” Caroline pointed out, deadpan.

“I still could,” Danse mused, looking down at the bay. “Come here, I’ll hold you,” he said, extending a hand to her.

Danse rarely joked. In the weeks she’d known him, Caroline could remember only a handful of times where he’d been less than serious. Even now, his face was impassive, betraying no hint of sarcasm or teasing. Was he actually thinking of jumping off the Prydwen’s deck? “I…you know I was joking, right?” Caroline asked apprehensively.

Danse blinked, lowering his outstretched hand. “Oh. Yes, of course. Let’s go find a vertibird pilot and—”

“No, hold on, if you’re serious, let’s do it,” Caroline said quickly, excitement growing. There seemed to be no one on the deck, no one would see them acting so recklessly. “No need to go through the whole production of undocking a vertibird, is there?”

“No, I suppose not. The last time I did this it was onto pavement; the sand should make it an even more manageable landing,” Danse mused.

Caroline’s jaw nearly dropped. “Hold on, you’ve jumped off the Prydwen before? You? Mr. No-Nonsense Paladin Danse?”

Now Danse really did smile. “I wasn’t always a Paladin, you know. Come on,” he said, holding out his arms again.

“You’ll have to tell me those stories sometime,” she said. Caroline moved closer, hesitating a little before putting her arms around Danse’s shoulders. It was a little awkward finding purchase on the smooth metal of his armor, but she held on tight as Danse scooped her up bridal-style, the steel around his arms cocooning her. Caroline laughed and met Danse’s gaze, suddenly aware of how close their faces were. Her heart skipped a beat, and she attributed it to the adrenaline.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Danse asked, his eyes locked onto hers.

Caroline forced herself to look away, out into the open air beyond. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Danse took a few running steps forward, then hurled himself feet-first into the sky. Caroline gasped, her stomach turning over as they fell, the air rushing past them, the ground hurtling ever closer. It was a few seconds before she even thought of screaming, and she suddenly let out a mad sound, half yell and half laugh. Danse began laughing as well, and held her even tighter as they neared the ground. He dropped to his knees as they landed, the power armor absorbing the shock. Caroline, cushioned in his arms, felt nothing more than a slight jostle. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, the pair of them still laughing hysterically.

“Promise me we’ll never take the vertibird down again,” she said, collecting herself enough to speak.

Danse laughed again. This was a new side of him, more at ease than Caroline had ever seen. It was nice to see him free from the stress of leading a doomed field squadron. “I’m not sure if this sort of behavior befits a Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel. We’re meant to have a little more decorum,” Danse admitted. He stood, walking a few paces before setting Caroline down on the beach. “No sense getting your boots wet,” he explained.

“And here I thought you were going to carry me all the way there,” Caroline sighed teasingly. She readjusted her pack and the two of them set off westward. “Does it ever get tiring?” Caroline asked after a while. “All that decorum, representing the Brotherhood all the time? Having so much responsibility?”

Danse was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “Of course it does. There are times, especially recently, when I wished that I didn’t have to make such tough decisions. I believe in the work we’re doing with all my heart, but sometimes…” he sighed again, his brow furrowing at some memory. “Some of my decisions have led to soldiers’ deaths. I didn’t intend that, obviously, and all the soldiers here know the risks of war, but…responsibility and rank can weight heavily on a person’s mind. The stakes have been high in the Commonwealth lately. It seems like every time we neutralize one threat, two more crop up. And now with the Institute and their synths… There is a lot to be done, and not much time to rest. Not even much time to get to know the people under my command. I’m surrounded by people, yet I feel…isolated. Lonely, I suppose,” Danse finished, his face clouding over as he considered the thought.

“That’s hard,” Caroline said, the words sounding lame and ineffective in her own ears.

Danse laughed humorlessly. “Yes. And I assume it goes without saying, Knight, but I would prefer if this conversation remained between us.”

“Of course, sir,” Caroline said automatically. She set her jaw, keeping her gaze straight ahead, knowing she’d lose her nerve if she looked at her commander. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Granted.”

“I may have limited experience in the Brotherhood, but I think you’re an exemplary commander. I’m proud to serve with you. And if you ever…need to talk, please don’t forget that I’m here for you.” Caroline’s entire body was tense as she walked, as if she was going into a combat zone. She anticipated a cold rebuff, a reminder that, despite everything she had accomplished out in the Commonwealth, rebuilding the Minutemen and aiding countless people, she was still just an underling in the Brotherhood. It wasn’t her place to speak to her superior this way. And yet she couldn’t help seeing past their ranks, seeing Danse as simply a man burdened by a grandiose, nearly impossible task. She wanted to help him, too.

Had Caroline worked up the nerve to look at Danse, she would have seen surprise flash across his face, quickly replaced by a soft smile. “Thank you, Knight,” he said earnestly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

They continued on, chatting lightly as they walked, Danse filling Caroline in on various aspects of Brotherhood history while she occasionally remarked on pre-war buildings and explained old customs. It was a few hours’ walk to the hydroponics building, and it was the longest amount of time the two of them had had alone together. There were the occasional insects and ghouls to put down, but the journey was largely uneventful, and Caroline was glad of the chance to really talk with Danse. Despite the everyday dangers of life in the Commonwealth, Caroline felt at ease when they reached the abandoned lab, and judging from Danse’s smile, he did as well. It was a short-lived feeling though; the carnage outside the building suggested that a group of gen-1 synths had made it their new home.

“Well, Knight, what do you think we should do? Frontal assault?” Danse asked. She had a sneaking suspicion Danse would sometimes make deliberately bad suggestions, giving her an opportunity to think tactically and decide on a better option. As far as combat training went, there really wasn’t much else he could do for her; Caroline was as familiar with fighting as any member of the Brotherhood.

Caroline was wary. Bursting through the front doors was rarely a good plan. The synths would have received orders from Institute scientists, and those orders certainly included guarding whatever operation they had set up here. Caroline scanned the exterior of the three-story building, searching for another option. “There,” she said, pointing out an old fire escape. “If you give me a hand, I can climb up there, lower the ladder, then we can enter on the top floor and get the drop on them,” she suggested. “But of course, it’s up to you, sir,” she added wryly.

Danse smirked. “Good idea. Let’s head out.” The two climbed up the creaking fire escape and reached the door at the top. They stopped and listened and, hearing nothing, entered the building, weapons at the ready.

Stealth of any kind was limited with Danse’s power armor, but the advantages it afforded him evened things out. There were two synths at the opposite end of the hall where the pair entered, and Caroline made short work of them. She and Danse methodically searched the rooms on either side of the corridor, catching many of the synths within by surprise. They used the doorways and decrepit desks as cover, blasting away at the skeletal robots. The synths, especially the reckless few armed with shock batons, got a few good hits on them, and they both stopped to catch their breath before they descended into the atrium.

“I’ll go first. We’ll lure them into the open on the ground floor, that will be easier than getting tangled up in these corridors,” Danse said, leading the charge down the stairs once Caroline was ready.

The ruckus upstairs had alerted the rest of the synths to their presence, and soon they entered the atrium from all sides, using the remnants of the balustrades for cover as they shot down at Danse and Caroline. The latter two took opposite ends of the reception area, fighting off the synths on the ground floor, leaving a heap of scrap metal in their wake. The noise of the battle roared in her ears and Caroline could feel her adrenaline pumping. She did her best to ignore the burning sensation that came from the blasts of the synths’ laser weapons, but eventually she could feel herself flagging. The synths kept firing from the balcony above, and a seemingly endless stream came from deeper within the hydroponics building. She took a deep breath and focused, trying to get an angle on the synths. She had just shot one of them in the head when she felt a searing pain in her right leg. She fell, landing hard on her ass and swiveling around to fire on the synth who had got her. It was then that she heard the fatal sound of a grenade pin being pulled.

Dread pooled in her chest as she watched the grenade roll toward her. She tried to scramble away, but with the state of her leg and the debris around the room, she knew the distance wouldn’t be enough. Then, a loud _thunk_ and a blur of gray, followed by the muffled sound of an explosion. Danse cried out as the grenade exploded beneath him, his power armor absorbing most of the damage.

Caroline wasted no time; she fired on the few remaining synths from her position on the floor. Within a few moments, the room was still. “Danse!” she cried urgently, crawling over to him, gasping at the pain in her leg. “Danse, are you alright?”

“I’m alive,” Danse said gruffly. He sat up, revealing a large gash in his cheek, the blood running down his neck. He winced, putting a hand to his stomach where his armor was scorched and battered. “I think…I need medical attention,” he said gasping. “How is your leg?”

“I’ll be fine, I was stupid, I let one of them sneak up on me,” Caroline said apologetically. She rifled through her pack, trying to find a stimpak while looking over Danse’s wounds. He needed more than field triage, she could see that much. “I’m going to call in a vertibird, I still have those smoke grenades that Maxson gave me. I’ll get you help, don’t worry.” Danse nodded, his jaw clenched tight against the pain he must be feeling. Caroline administered what first aid she was able to, on him as well as herself. “I’ll be right back, I just have to go outside and toss this,” she said, holding one of the signals.

“I’ll wait here,” Danse said flatly.

Caroline chuckled weakly. “Good. Don’t go anywhere.” She pulled herself up, grabbing onto a desk for support and limping across the linoleum floor. She opened up the front door of the building and chucked a signal grenade out; its smoke filled the sky, spiraling upward to a distance that, hopefully, could be seen from the Prydwen. Caroline made her way back inside, praying that nothing else would find them before the Brotherhood squad did. She limped back to Danse, her right leg protesting with every step, and nearly collapsed onto the floor next to him. “There. They should be here in twenty minutes or so,” she reported, panting with effort. When no response came, she glanced down at her commander; he had passed out while she was gone. Caroline’s heart seized. It would be that much harder to monitor his condition now—he could have severe internal injuries that killed him before help even arrived.

“Danse!” she yelled, shaking him lightly. “Hey! Come on, wake up! Stay with me, please!” she said, feeling panicked. “Danse! Please, you said you wouldn’t go anywhere!” Caroline’s heart sank. The adrenaline in her system had fallen, and she wondered briefly if she was going into shock from blood loss and her near-death experience. But her own state didn’t really matter now: Danse was lying unconscious, possibly in critical condition, and there was nothing she could do. And, worse yet, it was all her fault. If she had only been quicker on the draw, if she had been able to fend off more of the synths, if she had just gone with his plan of a frontal assault, maybe none of this would have happened. Danse had jumped on a grenade for her, and she was powerless to help him now. She swore loudly, trying to take deep breaths to stop her body from shaking.

The next quarter hour was one of the longest of Caroline’s life, but eventually she heard the whirr of the vertibird in the distance. When she heard it land and cut off its engine, she yelled at the top of her lungs, loath to attempt to walk again and even more reluctant to leave Danse’s side. Two power-armor-clad knights entered the lab and, upon seeing them, rushed to their aid. One of them supported Caroline to the vertibird, then returned to help the other maneuver Danse into the craft. Soon all of them were making their way back to the Prydwen, then into the medbay.


	2. Chapter 2

“How is he?” Caroline asked Cade as soon as he approached. It had been a few hours and she was lying in a bunk after being examined by medical personnel. Her leg was feeling better; she’d been instructed to rest for a day or so, but the medicines she’d been given were already repairing the damage.

“Paladin Danse will make a full recovery,” Cade said. Relief flooded Caroline instantly, making her feel better than any of the painkillers she’d been given. “Some shrapnel pierced him when his armor was blown in, and he had numerous other wounds, but nothing we couldn’t deal with. He’s lucky you had those signal grenades or he would never have made it back,” the doctor said casually. “Now. I’ve cleared everything with Elder Maxson and Lancer Captain Kells—you’ve been given full leave for the next three days, and I strongly suggest you stay in bed for most of it. Do not leave the base or do any strenuous activity if you want that leg of yours to heal. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. Can I see him? Paladin Danse, I mean,” Caroline asked hopefully.

“No. He needs rest.” Cade shook his head, looking Caroline over. “Can’t imagine what he was thinking, jumping on that bomb. He must really see potential in you, Knight.” With that, Cade left her lying on her bunk, staring up at the scaffolded ceiling of the Prydwen.

She did as Cade asked and rested, wishing she had something she could do to fill the time rather than stare into space and think. Her thoughts went in circles, mostly centering around Danse and how wretched she had felt when she thought she would lose him. Danse had become more than just her commanding officer: he was one of the only people she could count on in this strange new world she found herself in. He was level-headed, fair, brave to a fault, and committed wholeheartedly to his cause. He cared about the people of the Commonwealth, he wanted to allay their fears of the Institute and the other monsters lurking out there in the wastes. He was a good partner, and Caroline was terrified of losing him. Seeing him jump on a grenade for her, thinking he would die in order to save her life had been horrifying. In that moment, she had realized just what Danse meant to her, and it was certainly more than what soldiers normally felt for commanding officers. She sighed deeply, trying to reassure herself that Danse would pull through and be none the worse for wear in a few weeks, and that they could discuss things then.

That night she slept fitfully, but shortly after waking a few hours later one of Cade’s scribes came and checked on her, then gave her leave to get up and walk around, provided she was careful. “And you have been summoned by Elder Maxson, Knight,” she added.

“Any idea what it’s about?” Caroline asked apprehensively.

“A debrief on your last mission, presumably,” the scribe said with a hint of boredom. “Good day.”

The scribe left the hall and Caroline gingerly got up and made her way to the command deck. Elder Maxson was in his usual place, in front of the windows looking out onto the Commonwealth. “You wanted to see me, sir?” Caroline asked, standing at attention.

“Yes. I heard that your last mission did not go as planned. A simple sweep operation ended with one of my best Paladins in critical condition, and his pet project nearly got her leg shot off. What happened?” he asked fiercely.

Caroline clenched her jaw, fighting to keep her expression and tone even. She didn’t take kindly to being referred to as Danse’s “pet project,” nor did she see the utility in her coming in to explain all that had gone wrong. Maxson could have read this in the official report she’d submitted yesterday rather than waste her time now. “I was shot in the leg while trying to fend off a _dozen_ synths, went down, and then Danse jumped on a grenade. For the particulars of _that_ decision, you’ll have to ask him,” she said icily, adding belatedly, “Sir.”

Maxson scowled. “I see now why Danse had reservations about becoming your sponsor. Perhaps I should have accepted his request to make you someone else’s problem. I should have known that saddling my best Paladin with a Commonwealth mercenary would lead to trouble,” he said ruefully.

That stopped Caroline in her tracks. “Danse didn’t want to be my sponsor?” she asked incredulously. Since they’d first met at the police station, Danse had given no indication that he didn’t like working with her. Caroline had grown to assume the opposite, that the two of them were good friends. She cared about Danse. Had that all been one-sided? Had Danse been doing nothing more than following orders?

“He suggested I place you under Paladin Okora’s supervision, but I told him that since he had brought you into the fold, he would be responsible for you. I see now what a mistake it was. You may hold the rank of knight, but you’re a long way from understanding how we do things in the Brotherhood,” Maxson said sharply. “To that end, I’m putting you on probation. You will have no more field missions until you demonstrate that you understand how to cooperate and follow orders. Arguing with me,” Maxson growled as Caroline opened her mouth to protest, “would be a very bad choice. Dismissed, soldier.”

With that, Maxson turned his back to her. Caroline, after a moment’s hesitation, left the command deck. She wandered back up to the main deck, still processing all she had learned. It wasn’t the probation that bothered her—she had plenty of other tasks in the Commonwealth to keep her busy—it was the idea that she had so drastically misjudged Danse’s feelings. He didn’t care about her in the way she cared about him—to Danse, she was just a trainee, a burden that held him back while he could be out in the field doing real work. Caroline replayed some of their recent interactions in her mind, thinking about what they really meant. She had been idiotic to let her feelings run amok like this. Danse was her superior officer, nothing more.

And yet that thought made her miserable. It made Caroline face a truth she had been avoiding for quite some time: she loved him.

 

Danse walked through the darkened corridor, looking into every room he passed. There was carnage everywhere from the earlier battle, but he didn’t take time to stop and examine anything. He pressed on, growing slightly worried. There was nothing here but death, and he needed to find—Suddenly he stepped out into a well-lit room, daylight coming in through a hole in the ceiling. “Caroline,” he said as she turned around to face him. Relief flooded him; he found her, she was safe. She smiled and took a step toward him, holding out her arms. He approached as well, but just as his hands touched hers, she changed. Her body crumbled into a hundred pieces, like old mortar cracking away from a wall. Her hands came off, and he held them dumbly, watching in horror as she became a pile of debris on the floor. He took a step toward her, desperate, but must have tripped over something because he was falling fast to the floor—

Danse woke up in bed with a jolt which he immediately regretted. His adrenaline was pumping and he had jostled his broken rib, sending a flare of pain through his abdomen. He lay back, breathing steadily, waiting for the pain to subside as he tried to recall what had woken him. His heart sank as he remembered. Apparently his fear of losing Caroline was pervasive enough to make it into his dreams, and it didn’t make for very restful sleep.

His mind racing, Danse replayed the events of the earlier battle. He had acted on instinct when he heard the familiar sound of the pin being pulled out of the grenade. He’d jumped on it without thinking for a moment, trusting implicitly in his power armor to keep himself and Caroline safe. But, he mused, he may have done the same thing even without power armor. Now he lay on his bunk, thinking through the decision and examining his instinct. There had been plenty of other soldiers under his command; would he have done the same for all of them? No, he decided, staring that hard truth in the face. There were people he would not have risked his life for in that way, so what made Caroline different? She had no formal training with the Brotherhood, and had been little more than a mercenary when he’d met her. But she had proven time and time again that she was capable, selfless, and determined. She upheld the tenets of the Brotherhood better than some commanding officers Danse had met. Whereas most Brotherhood soldiers had to be taught responsibility, justice, and all the rest of it, Caroline embodied these traits naturally. Even though he outranked her, Danse admired her. More than admired, if he thought about it. He had come to love her.

Thinking back on it, he supposed he had loved her for quite some time now. At least ever since the Prydwen had arrived in the Commonwealth. When they’d first come onboard and Danse had met with Elder Maxson, Danse had wholeheartedly recommended her official promotion. Maxson had been skeptical, but Danse had convinced him, telling the Elder of all Caroline had done for the Brotherhood without any expectation of recompense. The fervor of his own argument had astounded him; it had been some time since he’d believed in a recruit’s potential so strongly. He had backed off, suggesting that one of the other Paladins would be a better sponsor. He hadn’t wanted his close ties with Caroline to get in the way of her training. But Maxson had insisted, and for a while everything was good. Danse got to see his friend excel, teaching her what he could of the Brotherhood’s history and goals, while also having an experienced soldier at his side.

Caroline had taught him a thing or two as well. Her determination inspired others; she was always positive of a good outcome, even when the squad had their backs to the wall. She was eager to do well and do jobs thoroughly, never leaving any abominations alive or important tech overlooked. But most of all, she was a good person. She was able to talk and joke while not losing sight of the mission. Even Rhys had warmed up to her eventually. She was one of the best partners he’d ever had. How could he not love her?

Danse sighed, surveying his room aboard the Prydwen. The doctor had patched him up and ordered him to stay in bed for a few days, saying that bedrest could mean the difference between returning to the field or permanent injury. The thought of being confined here with nothing to do was unappealing. He considered asking one of the medical attendants to summon Caroline to his quarters—they hadn’t had much of a chance to discuss all that had happened on their last mission. But what would he say to her? She would want to know why he had jumped on a bomb for her, and what would he say? If confronted about it, Danse would surely confess how much she meant to him. And what sort of position would that put Caroline in?

Danse chastised himself. Thoughts like the ones he’d been having were completely unacceptable, especially from a superior officer. He and Caroline worked together, and while a bond with one’s comrades in arms helped you function as a team, friendships left you vulnerable. Danse knew that firsthand. Romantic relationships were thus out of the question. As a Paladin, Danse knew he had to hold himself to a higher standard. These feelings of his had to be ignored, it would only lead to difficulty if he admitted them to Caroline. Especially because he was sure she didn’t feel the same way. He sighed, sinking more comfortably into his cot to attempt to fall asleep. It was his duty to do the right thing, even when it was hard. Even when it meant denying his love for her.

 

Caroline wandered into the mechanics bay, her mind adrift. It was only Proctor Ingram’s voice that called her back. “Well well, didn’t think I’d be seeing you any time soon. I heard you and Paladin Danse got pretty banged up out there.”

“Yeah. He got the worst of it though,” Caroline confessed.

“I can tell. His power armor was sent down here,” Ingram said, gesturing to a suit in bay two. The torso was blown apart, the metal shards curling inward. It was no wonder Danse passed out if all of that pierced him. Caroline was hit with a fresh wave of guilt. “Not sure what they want me to do with it,” Ingram continued grumbling. “I’ve got enough to do just keeping this damn boat in the sky, and it would be much simpler to just replace the suit.”

“Is that not an option?” Caroline asked.

Ingram looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “I keep forgetting you’re new here,” she said with a laugh. “It’s tradition for Brotherhood soldiers to keep the same power armor for the duration of their service. Unless it’s damaged beyond repair, we just fix it up and get it back in the field. It’s a matter of pride for most soldiers, especially when they’ve served for as long as Danse. Hell, his armor must be at least fifteen years old, probably more. Not everyone gets promoted as quickly as you did,” Ingram explained.

“Yeah, well. I’m on probation now, so I think my meteoric rise through the ranks will stop short,” Caroline said drily, biting back a sarcastic remark aimed at Elder Maxson.

“Hey, it happens to most of us sooner or later,” Ingram shrugged.

Caroline sighed, nodding, still looking over Danse’s armor. “If you’re busy, would you mind if I worked on his suit? I could probably get it working again,” she said.

Ingram smiled. “Yeah, if you want to take a crack at it, I’d be glad to have that off my plate. You’re going to need to replace that torso piece, no matter what tradition says. You wouldn’t even be able to get inside without getting impaled. But I’m sure the rest of it can be salvaged, if you’ve got the mind to.”

“I’ll get to work then,” Caroline said, glad to have something to do. It was the least she could do to repay Danse, anyway. Even if she had severely misjudged their relationship, even if he saw her as nothing more than an underling, he was owed thanks.


End file.
